


Atone

by AnOddSock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Angst, Canon Compliant, Crying, Dacryphilia, Dubious Consent, Hurt Sam, Kinktober, Masochism, No Aftercare, Non-Sexual Kink, Other, Punishment, Season/Series 05, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOddSock/pseuds/AnOddSock
Summary: Ever since he opened the gates of hell Sam has been eaten alive with guilt, for his role, his secrecy, the hurt he caused. Cas has been helping, doling out pain in doses Sam can handle.But now Dean has caught them at it and Sam isn't sure what they do next. Maybe it's better if he doesn't get a say.





	Atone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AzrielRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzrielRose/gifts).



> Kinktober 
> 
> 4\. **Spanking** | ~~Mirror Sex | Spit-roasting~~ | **Dacryphilia (Crying)**
> 
> Dubious consent because because when the situation changes Sam doesn't feel like he can say no and his protests fall on deaf ears.
> 
> Azrielrose gave me this prompt:
> 
> "spanking (honestly the crying thing too) - season 5, guilty sam has been having sessions with Cas punishing him as he struggles with Dean’s distrust. Dean catches them at it (or Cas tells, makes Sam tell, whatever) and Sam wants to stop but Dean forces him to let Dean watch. Cue disapproving betrayed Dean wanting to see pain, tears, remorse. Making comments, getting Sam to admit things about letting dean down."
> 
> So, let's go hurt the boy!

Sam is standing up against the wall, he’d sort of shuffled there humiliated when Dean had walked in and found Cas and him in one of their sessions. His punishment session, his penance.

It had been working great, keeping him from spiralling the rest of the time. Dean’s mistrust was such a violent, all consuming emotion in Sam’s head that he hadn’t known another way to deal with it. Only now the cat is out of the bag and Dean isn’t happy.

Nothing Sam does seems to be enough, or make it better.

So he’s standing out the way while Dean and Cas have it out, it’s not like they’ve noticed he’s missing from the conversation anyway. He’s been trying not to get in Dean’s way for weeks, and he isn’t about to start now, no matter how much he wants to tell his side of it.

“So you just decide to cause Sam pain because you think he deserves it?”

“Because he asked me!” Cas retorts. “If he thinks he deserves this I’m not going to tell him otherwise.”

“You’re telling me he wants this?”

Sam zones out, mortified, focusing on his bare feet and his unzipped pants. He’d hauled them up over his stinging ass but hadn’t fastened them.

He just wants to lose himself to physical sensation, to feel like the universe is paying back some of the pain he’s owed after everything, but he can’t even do that right. He’s mad but he’s supposed to keep quiet and just take this, so he’s not in a place to argue right now.

“How many times have you done this?” Dean asks.

Sam doesn't want to see his reaction to finding out just how many, so he closes his eyes and tries not to listen.

“This is between Sam and I, and I don’t think either of us require your input on the matter.” Cas says in his lowest Angel of the Lord voice.

He comes back to the conversation to Dean throwing his hands up and backing away.

“So do it then, if you both think it’s really gonna help.”

“Fine,” Cas growls. “Sam, are you ready?”

“Umm,” Sam hesitates because Dean’s still standing there, mad as hell, and looking right at him.

“Come on,” Cas says and Sam can’t usually ignore that tone, but… _Dean_.

“Are you going to leave?” he blurts out.

“No. You wanna get fucking _spanked_ to feel better about everything, then I’m going to watch.”

“Why?”

“This is about me, about us, isn’t it? How you think I’m still mad over everything, Lillith and the blood?”

Sam nods, glancing at Cas who’s titling his head in Sam’s direction with a cool, impatient look in his blue eyes. He’s glad to help Sam, at least Sam thinks so, but he has no qualms about reminding Sam there are more important duties he should be attending to.

“Well then, why beat around the bush, I should get to see how this fucking helps.”

“But,”

“No buts, Sam, we’re doing this,” Cas says, and he strides over and takes Sam’s arm.

Angel strength isn’t really something you can fight against and Sam isn’t supposed to anyway, that’s not what this is, so in mere seconds Cas sits down on the bed and he’s got Sam face down ass up over his knee.

Sam's humiliation hits a new low. Or a new high. He's not sure how you measure it.

“I’m going to start over like we weren’t interrupted, you can handle that of course.” And it isn’t a question.

 _Fuck_. His ass is already smarting, but now isn’t the time to make a fuss over fairness.

“Whatever you think Cas, yeah, I’m good.”

“Good answer.” And it definitely sounds like Cas is taking his annoyance with Dean out on Sam, so this is going to suck, even more than usual.

He huffs, trying to find his balance but Cas doesn’t give him time and his jeans are mercilessly yanked down below the curve of his ass while he teeters in place. He burns with embarrassment as his ass is bared to the room, fleetingly glad his hair is long enough to cover some of his face.

“Hands behind your back.”

Sam knows this drill, his body knows what it’s supposed to do so he responds without thought. One hand clutching the other in the small of his back, and Cas grips them with his iron strength.

Dean makes a noise of derision, and Sam wants to crawl out of his skin. Instead he shuts his eyes, and the smacks start.

Cas never gives him a warm up, just goes straight for gold - well, red - every time; Sam grits his teeth to keep from yelling. Three blows and the sound of each slap echoes in his head as the pain radiates out from Cas’s hand.

It’s worse, so much worse, with Dean just feet away, eyes trained on Sam. Sam can feel his stare like a weight on the back of his neck. They’d already gone half a round when Dean got here, so he’s already sore, and it isn’t many hits before he’s grunting with the pain.

No one says anything and that’s worse too, just empty space and the sound of slapping skin and Sam’s bitten back cries.

Before long, ten more hits or so Sam isn’t counting, his body starts trying to get away on pure instinct and Cas tightens his hold around Sam’s hands and widens his legs. Sam has no leverage, feet braced on the floor and his abdomen pressing on Cas’s legs his only points of contact. He squirms, jolting each time Cas lays a spank on his ass, grunting with the effort of enduring.

Dean walks over and the smacks stop. Sam opens his eyes, lifts his head, and finds Dean crouched beside him, he reaches out and holds Sam’s chin. Sam is blinking back tears, it _hurts_ , and he can’t even escape into the pain because Dean is right there.

“What?” he forces out.

“You don’t need to do this.” Dean replies.

“Yeah, yeah I really fucking do.” he knows it, knows it as surely as he knows his own name. He is owed this.

“Then make it actually mean something, tell me why? At this point it's just a pathetic display of self centred circle jerk nonsense. It's not achieving anything!”

Sam's ass would disagree with that, it's hurting plenty which is usually soothing. Not right now though.

“It works, it's worth it, you just don't see--”

“Yeah, I'm the problem here, sure.”

Sam feels very small, and very stupid, how can he explain to Dean what he needs while his ass is hanging out with Cas's hand hovering over it waiting with the threat of imminent pain?

Dean walks away, Cas resumes hitting his ass, and he yells at the renewed pace. It feels fiery red now and he knows Cas isn't even near to finished with him.

He can’t stop the tears, they fall as surely as the moans and hisses of pain that fall from his lips. It’s all so fucked up and he doesn’t know how to stop it.

They fall silently at first, making strange tear tracks around his downturned face. But soon he's groaning with little half sobs, his throat aching from trying to hold back. He lets noises leave his body making room for more of the pain.

“What are you paying penance for Sam?” Dean asks.

The blows are coming further apart now, time stretching between them and Sam is just trying to breathe while there’s space.

 _“You know why,”_ he hisses.

“But I forgave you, if it’s for something I know about, what more can you want?”

“Are you sure you forgave him?” Cas interjects and a tear drips from the end of Sam’s nose. “Because Sam doesn’t feel like you trust him.”

“I can forgive him without knowing how to trust him, I still feel like he’s holding back and hiding.” Dean says and it’s real quiet, which seems worse than if he were yelling.

There they go again, talking about him, not to him. It’s no less than he deserves.

Sam cries out, keening, when Cas smacks him again. He arches his back to try and find space, his hands crushed and throbbing as Cas forces him to stay where he is. He wants to beg for it to stop, that he's had enough and that everything aches, but it's never stopped Cas before so he bites his tongue.

“Come on Sammy, tell me what this is for. Explain to me how this makes up for your fuck ups.”

Cas won’t be breaking a sweat hitting him over and over, it will be no trouble at all. And the idea that Dean can stand by and watch while he gets pounded into mulch and not seem to flinch even while Sam cries out makes him shiver.

“Have you found peace yet?” Cas asks. Sam sobs, because no, he hasn’t, he doesn’t know if he ever will.

He can bear this. He's gone through worse. The blood withdrawal and Zachariah burning his organs with just a twist of his hand.

But the pain is so immediate, slap after slap and they are slightly softer now but still coming. Jolts and stings bursting and blooming in bright harsh pain.

He loses his resolves amongst the soreness and thinking of Dean seeing him laid out to take it, and in between blows, it all comes tumbling out. The one thing Dean didn’t know, how he killed an innocent woman, a woman who was begging for her life, just so he could go break the last seal and let all hell break loose.

How he drank all her of blood and didn’t even let himself feel guilty, how he fucked Ruby afterwards, while it was fresh in his system and he needed a release. How he didn’t know whether to even count it as murder when technically there had been a demon in her all along.

Dean doesn’t say anything, and Cas seems to run out of blows by the end of his gasping, moan filled tale. Within minutes Sam is on his hands and knees on the carpet, not risking trying to sit down on his flaming ass. He rubs at his tear stained face with one hand, trying to scrub the evidence out of existence.

Cas is putting on his trench coat, and he gives Sam a pointed look, “I think we’re done here, aren’t we?”

Sam shrugs, and nods, and meekly thanks him. He leaves, breezing past Dean without so much as a goodbye.

Sam groans, lifting himself to his feet, braced for the awful look in Dean’s eyes and the verbal beat down he’s sure to get.

Only, Dean turns away, plonking down at the table.

“Go clean up or something.” Dean sighs.

Sam does. He stands in the shower for a long time, hands braced on the tiles. He wishes everything were different, he wishes he were different.

His ass burns awfully, every movement as he dries off a small private agony. He revels in it, it eases the weight in his chest a little, but it seems pointless now too. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to do this thing with Cas again now that Dean knows, now that it’s out in the light of day.

He tentatively leaves the bathroom, hair mussed and towel held round his hips. The friction feels nice, creating little zings that crawl up his spine.

“So, do we need to talk?” he asks the motel room at large. He looks at Dean with his head angled down, trying to look as small as he feels.

“Dunno what more there is to say.” Dean replies.

He doesn’t seem mad though, and when he walks up to Sam and makes him lift his chin up, he’s almost smiling. At the very least his expression is neutral and Sam's too surprised to say anything.

“You good? Need anything?”

“I’m alright,” Sam replies, frowning.

“Gonna be a long drive tomorrow, you gonna manage that?” and there’s humour in his voice now, like he’s mocking Sam. But it’s playful, _brotherly_ , in a way they haven’t had in weeks. No, in months.

“It’s supposed to hurt, that’s the whole idea.” Sam snarks back.

Dean nods, humming, and steps around Sam to go into the bathroom.

He turns at the last second, and grips Sam’s shoulder, eyes serious.

“We’re done with this now, right?”

“What-” _what do you mean_ Sam is going to ask.

“You’re done Sam, we’re good now, it’s all good. No more doing this in secret, you have a problem or a need, you come to me and we only bring Cas in if we can’t sort it ourselves.”

Dean stares him down, waiting for Sam to agree. So Sam does, he nods, and Dean grimaces back at him squeezing his shoulder before the door closes behind him.

Sam rubs a hands over the bruises forming on his ass. He guesses, if Dean’s says it’s done, that he’s had enough now that it is over. Just like that.

He's not sure that feels good though. He's not sure it's what he wants. But maybe, if he asked for Dean’s permission, maybe then he could still do it, and Dean could watch him atone.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a weird Sam to write, he's not got his usual fight and resolve, but hopefully it fits for the time it's set in and the prompt. He's also an unreliable narrator because he think he deserves this, poor sad boy.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Feed me happiness with comments and kudos, pretty please?
> 
> [Find me on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/oddsocksandstuff) if you want to say hi. I'll have some shorter Kinktober prompts going up there on and off throughout the month.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Penance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16338725) by [AnOddSock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOddSock/pseuds/AnOddSock)




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